


My Fair Stranger

by HanabiPC



Category: SHINee
Genre: Alternate Universe - Restaurant, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-23
Updated: 2020-09-23
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:01:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,292
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26618620
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HanabiPC/pseuds/HanabiPC
Summary: Prompt: Taekey dining AU, assuming they go to the same restaurant. Kibum waiting for his food when he spots a boy who wants to buy salad but it comes with a full course meal so the  boy can't afford. Kibum invites him over and treats him his salad, they chat a little and get to know each other. (prompt from mugmid)
Relationships: Kim Kibum | Key/Lee Taemin
Comments: 4
Kudos: 9





	My Fair Stranger

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Key Day, everyone! :-)
> 
> Wrote this in honor of our Kibum's birthday so let's bask in his loveliness, through the eyes of Taemin.
> 
> I want to thank Mid for this cute and smart prompt. I had fun doing this despite the time constraints. Thank you for choosing me to write this. There was no way I could've resisted it because it's just so cute. 
> 
> This is pure fluff so expect it to be cheesy & sappy, as well as the references.
> 
> I hope you'll enjoy this and that it'll make your hearts feel light, as what I wish for Kibum on his birthday. <3
> 
> Love, Hanna
> 
> P.S. It'll be cool if you can let me know if you like it. :)

**My Fair Stranger**

“I like the… I want to… to order ssh-swiss ch-chard shalad, ah, no, it’s sss-alad not shalad.”

_Damn it_ , Taemin thinks. He would’ve nailed saying the damn name of that damn salad if he wasn’t too self-conscious speaking to an actual foreigner.

He was confident in the past two days he’s been in London as he threw English phrases around in the company of his friends and fellow dancers. He was convinced that all those years being hooked on Marvel Cinematic Universe and Disney movies has somehow helped him develop a familiarity with the language that could be useful on occasions like this. So Taemin was mortified when the words didn’t roll out of his tongue easily when he **read** from the menu.

Perhaps this is what people mean when they tell him that watching him dance makes certain moves look easy, but they end up failing miserably when they try to execute the steps themselves. Okay, so maybe he’s wrong about being self-conscious because the people that made those comments are definitely not lacking in confidence. He sourly accepts that people fall short of doing certain things because of simple incapability, and Taemin is apparently incapable of mastering a third language.

It’s one of the things he loves about traveling to Japan— he never feels inept conversing with locals. He loves the language so much that he even prefers dancing to the Japanese versions of the songs of the Kpop group he performs with. 

Taemin can actually get over embarrassing blunders quickly, especially in this particular situation because the waiter seems to be genuinely nice and used to taking orders from non-native English speakers. However, Taemin is one hundred percent sure that the man in the next table heard him. A beautiful stranger that he has been eyeing ( _discreetly, he hopes_ ) since he stepped inside the restaurant. And this is what causes his face to redden— something that he dreads because he already has prominent cheeks, which must look like overripe tomatoes by now. He shoots a glance at the stranger and instantly regrets it because he sees the man’s _oh-so-high_ cheekbones.

The gods he must have offended in his past life are apparently not done with him because, in his laborious conversation with the waiter, Taemin learns that the salad he ordered is part of their “lunch special” and comes with a full course meal. He is now being asked what he would like for his appetizer, soup, main course, and dessert. Aside from the unnerving prospect of struggling with the pronunciation of four more items on the menu, Taemin has a bigger problem— he only has enough money for a salad.

Taemin curses himself for being lured by the picture on the giant menu board outside the restaurant. It is Taemin’s first time in London so he thought it’s only fair that he treats himself to a nice meal on his last day here. And considering that the idols and their backup dancers watch what they eat when touring, he thinks he cannot do better than this. The lettuce looks fresh and crunchy and the perfect bed for the garlic bread crumbs, apple slices, and parmesan cheese. But the main attraction is the perfectly charred-red bacon, which are cut and artfully scattered all over the salad. It really looks good for a salad, which Taemin usually steers clear of when he’s not appearing on stage or shooting a music video.

Ultimately, Taemin was convinced that the scrumptious-looking salad is the solution to his craving for a guilt-free food adventure in a foreign land. He was quite intimidated by the fine dining setup but Taemin is confident he could afford a salad, so this was supposed to be perfect.

Except now that the only good thing about this bind he found himself in is having a gorgeous man in close proximity to him. But on second thought, this is another punishment for his seemingly unsavory past life. Who wants to be humiliated in front of one’s crush, no matter if it’s a five-minute-old crush. So as much as he would like to see more of this sharp-featured, sharply dressed man, Taemin must get out of this place quickly for the sake of the crouton-sized dignity he has left.

Taemin was about to apologize for the mistake and flee in haste when a low raspy voice cuts through the tense air—

“Waiter? Excuse me. I ordered Beet Salad with Goat Cheese with my lunch set, but could you please change it to Swiss Chard Salad and give it to him? I don’t think I can do a full course, anyway.”

“Certainly, Sir. The soup, salad, and appetizer will be served shortly. Please excuse me.”

“I ordered Bruschetta for hors d’oeuvres. I hope you have nothing against carbohydrates.” The man is now addressing him and Taemin is too stunned by this development to respond quickly. He was also distracted by the Cupid’s bow lips uttering a word or two that Taemin doesn’t think is English but finds sexy.

_Is he giving me his salad out of charity or is he offering to share his lunch with me? Is he a sugar daddy because holy fuck I’ve never entertained the thought, but if it’s his thing then I was born to be a sugar baby! He doesn’t look that much older than me though but who knows?_

“Yah, I’m talking to you.”

The beautiful man speaks to him in Korean. Taemin realizes he made a mistake in his earlier theory of his past life. He must have been a philanthropist who was also kind to animals and plants. Even mushrooms.

“Okay, you don’t want to talk to me even if you can understand me because we’re both Korean. I’m sorry if I creeped you out by proposing to give you my salad. I thought I was helping.”

“You did.”

“I creeped you out?”

“No. I mean, you did help. I’m sorry I didn’t respond right away. I’m too embarrassed.”

“Don’t be. I’m just a regular guy. It’s not like I’m a celebrity.”

“Are you sure?”

“Are you complimenting me? Because if you feel like you need to suck up because I saved you earlier, stop.”

Taemin’s mind is already replying that it isn’t sucking _up_ that he wants to do to him, but what’s more important right now is that it was an honest retort. He looks at the man’s obviously expensive tweed plaid coat, which he is wearing over a white dress shirt layered with a black scoop neck vest. The collar of his white shirt makes Taemin understand why there are articles of clothing that are described as ‘crisp.’ He has a big-ish satchel beside him with the kind of leather material that is familiar to Taemin because of the bag-addict Kpop idols he works with. Even his smell is expensive. Taemin is glad he’s wearing his Loewe sweater, which is a hand-me-down from one of the idols he regularly works with.

Taemin also notices that the man only looks older from a distance because of his retro-style eyeglasses. They are probably just a couple of years apart in age. There goes his very first sugar daddy fantasy.

_Dear god, he’s perfect. He must have really ugly feet._

“You’re staring. I guess you mean it.” The man chuckles.

The man definitely has ugly feet because Taemin is looking at the most alluring smile and dimples he has ever seen in his life.

  
  


“If you’re not a celebrity, maybe you work in the fashion industry or maybe you’re attending graduate school here in London because you sure look like you come from a family that can afford it. Oh fuck, I’m sorry for being presumptuous.”

The man simply chuckles.

“That’s all right. I’m a very judgmental person myself. _Haha!_ My name is Kim Kibum. I’m not a celebrity and I’m not in the fashion industry. I’m just a guy who’s offering to share my lunch because it’s honestly a lot. I was ordering steak earlier and they asked if I wanted to try the lunch special and I said _sure_. So don’t feel beholden to me or anything. What’s your name?”

“I’m Lee Taemin. Obviously, I’m not from around here. I’m touring with a Kpop group called Supreme. Have you heard of them?”

“I don’t really listen to Kpop. I’m a classical and jazz music kind of guy. So you’re an idol?”

“No! I’m a backup dancer. The group is on tour right now so here I am. It’s our day off; we did three shows in a row. We’re leaving tomorrow morning.”

“Oh. Well, you picked a good restaurant for your last day in London. Speaking of—our food’s here!”

Taemin doesn’t really know what to expect. When he entered this establishment, he was just eager to eat good salad for once. Now he is sitting across Mr. Beautiful Stranger and is watching plate after plate of dishes he only ever sees on TV laid out before him. But it is a restaurant, so food is absolutely a feasibility. It is Kibum’s presence—his company, actually—that is making this lunch eventful for Taemin.

“Considering your job, I assume you’re on a low-carb diet. But you should have a piece of bruschetta. It’s still early, anyway. You can go for a walk after this to burn the calories.”

Taemin hears that word again. So it’s bread, the Food Channel kind. The way Kibum says its name is making the hair at the back of his neck stand.

“It’s actually healthy. It’s just roasted tomatoes and garlic for the toppings. The only thing sinful about it is the mozzarella cheese. But we need to sin a little to get more out of life, right?” Kibum bites into a piece and chases the string of mozzarella hanging from his lips back to the bread.

Taemin looks away before he salivates. And not because of the bruschetta, delicious-looking it may be. Kibum must have read the gesture as him being shy because Taemin sees a piece of bruschetta being deposited on his plate.

“By the way, I didn’t get cream-based soup, which is commonly more favored. The appetizer and steak are already flavorful so I opted for consommé, a clear soup to clear the palette…”

“I wish I could have my steak rare just to look legitimately refined, but I can’t even have it medium rare! Medium is me, I hope you don’t mind. This is Chateaubriand, tenderloin. He gave us butter and lemon juice for the sauce, but I’ll go ask for white wine and tarragon. Excuse me, Taemin.”

Kibum approaches the cashier since their waiter isn’t in sight. Taemin is still dizzy from the way Kibum names the food and condiments around them, making these come alive in Taemin’s world. His catholic consciousness likening it to the day of Creation when all the elements and vegetation and every beast are named into existence.

Taemin watches the way Kibum cruises around the restaurant as if it is his kingdom. The man must be so used to eating at posh restaurants. Well, a fine man like him deserves to eat the finest food.

“Sorry, I had a little chat with the lady at the cashier. I just asked her about their holiday schedules. Oh, and I ordered a bottle of red wine. Cabernet sauvignon is best with the steak we’re having, but I’m more the Shiraz type.”

Although Taemin usually balks at excess or a lifestyle he deems as too extravagant, he finds himself smiling at Kibum and at how cute it is that the man spoils himself.

Despite having just met, not to mention the bizarre circumstances of their meeting, Taemin and Kibum enjoy a free flowing conversation on random topics. This surprises Taemin, who is aware that he is an introvert, because he normally clams up in the presence of people he just met.

For Taemin, meeting Kibum feels like playing a DVD of a film genre he is completely unfamiliar with, but the movie ends up being his favorite. He never understood the “thrill” of meeting strangers and why this concept is perpetually used and consumed in romance novels and films. The world is replete with unhinged people, so if anything, it is scary.

But Taemin feels different about this, and he acknowledges that he has never been this enthralled. It is also a delightful thought to him that they could’ve met in Korea but it happened in London… the first country outside Asia that Taemin visited. 

“I’m sorry the stuff I’m telling you are not that exciting. The only country I’ve traveled to is Japan, and those trips were for work. You must have traveled around the world.”

“Taemin, the first thing you should remember when wandering alone as a tourist is to not be gullible. People are not always what they seem to be. For example, not all men that look like thugs are thugs. And not all impeccably dressed handsome guys dining in steak restaurants are rich.” Kibum picks up his wine glass and drinks from it like he’s shooting for a chardonnay television ad.

Kibum’s description of himself is too factual for Taemin that he unconsciously dismisses the man’s attempt at being funny through fake narcissism.

“Are you saying you’re not rich?”

“Does it matter to you if I’m not?”

“I don’t believe you, but to answer your question— no. It doesn’t matter to me. Although I feel a little insulted that you’re trying to take me for a fool. I know I was an embarrassment earlier, but I’m not dull. I’m a backup dancer but I have a bachelor’s degree. Although I admit I sucked at Humanities.”

“Ah! My strong suit. Anyway, I’m not taking you for a fool. I just want you to be more discerning.”

“I get your point. And I understand if you’re not comfortable divulging your wealthy background. Besides, maybe if you confirm it, I’d feel inadequate hanging out with you like this. Now I’m suddenly wishing I’m part of the idol group and not just a backup dancer. Or that you could at least see me dance. That’ll increase my value.”

Taemin actually means it. He wishes that he could’ve answered _yes_ when Kibum asked earlier if Taemin were an idol and because it were true. What stings is that it’s not like Taemin never had a shot at it.

He gets shuffled in terms of the groups he performs with. The company managers think Taemin’s good looks and dancing prowess make his stage presence a threat to the idols, so it’s best that he isn’t identified as a regular for a certain group.

  
  
Taemin has been offered to audition as an idol, just for formality, because he’s always being recruited as lead dancer and visual every time the company debuts a group.

  
  
Nevertheless, being in the sidelines has opened Taemin’s eyes to an idol’s life. He doesn’t think the fame and fortune are worth having one’s life controlled that way. He has also seen from an outsider’s point of view how increasingly disturbing the fans behave the more famous their idols become. And then there are the rabid fans of rival groups who will curse your very existence. Taemin has seen firsthand how ugly it can get since his idol friend Taeyong is often on the receiving end of irrational hatred (something he will never comprehend because his friend is a sweet soul).  
  


What’s important to Taemin is that he already considers getting paid for doing what he loves the most, which is dancing, as a great fortune. Furthermore, he has freedom, which he believes is priceless.  
  


It’s just that there are rare occasions when Taemin wishes he’s superior in wealth and stature. He’s going through it right now as he sits opposite this beguiling stranger.

“Oh, Taemin. You overestimate me. But more importantly, you underestimate yourself and you should never. Look at you! God, that face. And I have a feeling you’re an amazing dancer. Something about your physique and aura? I don’t know. You just have a very strong artist vibe to me. And you know what? Artists fit right in society circles. They’re even superior. They’re gifted, they have talent, while their friends just have money.”

“Well, since what you said made me feel I’ve been appraised, can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

“I actually have nothing to do the rest of the day. My friends are planning to go clubbing tonight but I’m pretty sure it’s going to be really late. Maybe we can hang out a bit longer?”

The waiter arrives with their dessert, which Kibum had already told him is lemon meringue pie. He also said it’s best to go for a citrusy dessert after having a large portion of red meat.

“I would love to, Taemin, but I actually have work to do.”

Of course Kibum does. Taemin feels like a fool. He’s worse than the romance movie junkies because they get off fiction, but here he is chasing a stranger as if he’s in a Richard Curtis film (yes, he knows _Notting Hill_ and _Love Actually_ because his flatmates Riki and Santa are hopeless romantics). Just one look at Kibum and anyone can tell he’s an important man with important things to do.  
  


Nevertheless, the more Taemin looks at Kibum, the more his attraction magnifies. Besides, this is his only chance. He’s leaving in the morning so he may never see Kibum ever again. But even if Taemin is impossibly taken with Kibum, he has enough decency not to assert himself if Kibum isn’t interested in him.

Kibum helps himself with a spoonful of meringue pie.

“This is good, Taemin. You should try it.”

Taemin then decides to bargain with fate. The waiter provided two dessert spoons, but if Kibum is willing to share his own with him—the stranger he just met—then Taemin has a chance. It’s an unmistakably intimate gesture that no one will ever do for a stranger, unless they really like the person.

When Taemin doesn’t respond or make any move, Kibum slices a small portion from the pie and brings it close to Taemin’s mouth.

“Here. I promise you’ll love it.”

“Can I get your number?”

“Can you please eat this first? Before my arm gets sore?” Kibum chuckles and Taemin swears the fair-skinned man’s cheeks just produced a bit of color.

Taemin takes the spoon in his mouth, running his tongue over the underside of it. The spoon has been inside Kibum’s mouth too, and this triggers several images in his head all at once.

“Give me your phone,” Kibum says, interrupting the kissing scenario in Taemin’s mind.

Taemin unlocks his phone and hands it to Kibum, mesmerized by the long fingers gliding and tapping on his phone screen. Those fingers must look so pretty intertwined with Taemin’s own or tangled in his hair or around his—

“There. I saved it in your contacts under _Kim Kibum_. Too formal, huh? Delete. _Kibum… hyung_. Here you go.”

\--

It’s beginning to feel like the longest afternoon of Taemin’s life. He’s sitting on a swing in a nearby park, watching kids and their parents play Frisbee with their dogs. 

Since he parted ways with Kibum, who practically rushed off when they exited the restaurant, Taemin has been wanting to send him a text message just to guarantee that he will see the man one last time before he leaves the country in the morning.

Taemin decides to embrace this strange feeling— this first-time all-consuming desire to see a stranger again. After all, he’s in a strange land.

He goes for a walk to enjoy what London has to offer to a broke tourist. The sky is a bit gray but Taemin feels like the city has that magical radiance which reminds him of basking in sunshine during those trips to Jeju Island when he was a child. When things were better for Taemin and his family.

_Is it because of him?_

He snickers, contemplating whether it is fair to blame Riki and Santa for this sentimentality or sappiness or whatever shit he’s feeling. 

Taemin pulls out his phone from his jeans’ back pocket.

[Taemin: “Hi Kibum-hyung. You said you’re finishing work late right? Cool because I don’t plan to sleep tonight. My flight is at 11am. Will sleep on the plane. Please let me see you again. PLEASE *aegyo x 100”]

Before the anticipation of Kibum’s reply drag the afternoon longer, Taemin continues his walk, admiring how old world lampposts make roads look so grand. He pauses abruptly when he feels his phone beep in his front pocket. He also feels his face breaking into a big smile.

[Kibum: “Sleep is for the weak huh? Meet me outside Hawksmoor Richmond around ten. It’s a steak restaurant.”]

[Taemin: “Hyung, can we meet somewhere else? :( I want to treat you this time but I don’t think I can afford to in that place. So sorry :( How about we meet at Notting Hill? Lol”] 

[Kibum: “Silly. Just meet me at Hawksmoor Richmond. No need to be shy. Trust me. I gotta work! Won’t be able to reply. See you later! :-*]

Taemin laughs at the prospect of seeing salad in a different light from here onwards.

He was going to order salad, which he detests eating more than anything, because he believed he found one that he might actually like. Then things take a turn for the worse and he finds himself on the threshold of the most humiliating encounter in his life. But he was saved by a stranger named Kim Kibum.

_Swiss Chard Salad, I love you._

\--

If he were to stick with his righteous past life narrative, Taemin wouldn’t have to stress himself out over something as trivial as Kibum not liking his jacket— a black leather biker’s that was sponsored by the company for the backup dancers to wear in the concerts.

Taemin felt really good about his looks the first time he wore it. The fit is perfect and it makes him look fierce ( _according to his friends_ ) as opposed to his default baby boy image. But Taemin is doubting himself right now because Kibum seems to be the tailored and tweed type and he’s probably attracted to guys in dress shirts and jacket-pants sets that scream Kingsman. Perhaps he’s just being silly and insecure for thinking that Kibum’s taste is encapsulated in Taemin’s idea of the quintessential Englishman. In spite of Kibum’s classic-classy getup earlier, there’s an element of fun in his personality that Taemin caught, and he can actually imagine Kibum in crazy colors and prints.

He is already outside the restaurant, at the back alley (as Kibum instructed), but he contemplates on running back to the hotel to borrow a blazer from Taeyong, since they’re about the same height and Taeyong’s fashion sense is impeccable. While calculating how much time it’ll take, a familiar voice—that Taemin sort of gotten addicted to in no time—pierces through the silence.

“Yah! Have you been here a long time? Why didn’t you text me?”

Without eyeglasses, Kibum looks even more stunning. His face is already Taemin’s favorite. But what stunned Taemin more is that Kibum is wearing a plain black t-shirt and a black half-apron, and in the right hand of the beautiful stranger Taemin met at the swank steak restaurant earlier is an extra-large garbage bag.  
  


It dawns on Taemin why Kibum is well versed in fine dining and why it’s second nature to him to navigate the interiors of a restaurant.

_This is it_ , Taemin thinks. The part in the movie where Santa and Riki usually start pushing and shoving each other on the living room couch and making funny sounds in an effort not to shriek.

The part wherein the lead character thinks he might just have fallen in love.

“Why are you smiling like that? Aren't you disappointed that this isn't that kind of story? I'm no Julia Roberts. Heck, I’m not even an owner of a quaint bookshop! I’m the guy who takes out the trash at the end of his 8-hour shift. Told you not to be gullible. I wasn’t even passing myself off as rich and yet you made your assumptions.”

“I’m sorry about that, hyung. But, no. I’m not disappointed. On the contrary, I’m relieved. And more amazed because you’re just naturally elegant.”

“Why, thank you. I’m sorry if you were misled. I’ve been working here for years! I just make it a point to treat myself once a month to a fine meal or a good show at West End. It’s to remind myself that even if times are hard, life can still be good. And look how today went for me! I ate well and I met a guy. He seems wonderful. Anyway, let me just grab my stuff. Wait for me here.” Kibum shyly bites on his lower lip and turns around.

When Kibum has gone back inside, Taemin releases the breath he’s been holding. How is it possible that he’s more mesmerized now?

\--

Kibum declines Taemin’s offer to treat him to a simple dinner. He waves a brown paper bag in front of Taemin, looking very excited.

“I have a couple of Philly Cheesesteak sandwiches here. It’s thinly sliced ribeye steak with caramelized onions and cheese. I whipped it up myself! Let’s go to my favorite bench. It’s a ten-minute walk.”

They end up on a bench facing a bike path and an open park. Taemin notices that there’s nothing particularly notable about this bench or park. 

“I usually eat takeaway food at my flat after work, save for days when I want to clear my mind of things. It’s much nicer to think with nature as your view instead of walls with peeling paint. Especially this view because the trees aren’t those big shrouding ones you usually find in the parks here in London. I like that I’m able to see green but it makes way for a broad, sweeping view of the sky. Surprisingly, I like sitting here because it makes me think of home, of Korea. And this park looks like the ones we have in Seoul.”

“Do you feel homesick at times?”

“It’s not that. I love London and I have no regrets moving here. It’s just that there’s something inside me that itches to connect with my first home. I guess it’s why I like this spot. Coming here somehow satisfies that inexplicable itch.”

“Why don’t you come home for a visit? It doesn’t have to be frequent.”

“I don’t have a home there anymore, Taemin. There’s no reason for me to take time off from work and spend money just to fly to Seoul. This is enough. Spending time on this spot is enough.”

“Maybe you will soon find a reason to visit Seoul.”

“Did you like the sandwich I made?”

Taemin doesn’t feel bad about Kibum’s overt attempt to change the subject. How could he when Kibum cannot even keep his dimples from showing as he forces words out of his mouth through his smile.

“It’s supposed to be just provolone cheese but I decided to throw in classic cheese whiz. I’m in the mood for a messy cheesesteak tonight. Besides, you look like the cheese kind of guy to me.”

“Bingo, hyung. I am actually obsessed with cheese. This is delicious. Thank you.” Taemin feels warmth explode inside his chest as he imagines Kibum in the kitchen, making their sandwiches and dumping cheese whiz on them with a playful smile on his beautiful lips. 

\--

It’s half past midnight when Kibum starts gathering their used napkins and crumpled sandwich foil wrappers to put back inside the brown bag. He stands up and dumps the bag inside the trash bin beside the bench.

“I assume your hotel is just in the area. I can walk you.”

“Uhm… well… I don’t want to go back to my hotel yet, Kibum-hyung. And I’m not interested in joining my friends at the club.”

“You can just say that you want to spend more time with me.”

Taemin just looks at the ground and smiles. He wonders if this kind of frankness comes with the culture here.

He sees Kibum smiling too before turning around to start walking. Taemin follows him.

“So I’m not _Roman Holiday_ Audrey Hepburn but _My Fair Lady_ Hepburn instead. Except that there’s no Professor Higgins and my Eliza Doolittle just learned everything herself. It’s a good storyline, though— a struggling migrant from Daegu gets mistaken for a London gentleman by a handsome young tourist.”

“Handsome?”

“Oh please. Don’t act surprised, as if you didn’t grow up hearing that every day of your life.”

“Are you speaking from experience, hyung?”

“Are you flirting with me, Taemin?”

Taemin is once again caught off guard by Kibum’s candidness. He fixes his gaze on the ground while trying to suppress a big grin.

“Hyung, I don’t really know the story of _Roman Holiday_ or _My Fair Lady_. I’m sorry I’m not cultured enough for you.”

“That’s okay. You like Disney and that’s enough for me. I’m sure you know Cinderella. Well, I could be her.”

“But I’m not a prince.”

“Trust me, with the right jacket, you’ll look like one. But then that will make us _The Prince and the Pauper_.”

“Pauper? You? Not convincing.”

“I suppose you’re right. I’m not rich but I do have class.” He winks at Taemin. “Anyway, we should give the fairytale concept a rest since we’re both poor. One of us should be royalty if we’re going to push the agenda.”

Kibum laughs and it’s the first time Taemin hears unrestrained laughter from Kibum. It sounds so embarrassing that it’s endearing.

“Come on. Let’s pass by the Hampton Court Palace on our way to my flat. Let’s pretend it’s where one of us lives. Oh, and my place is typical of a London blue-collar worker’s. Shabby chic, or just plain shabby if your standards are high. But! But I blew my savings during my first year here on an Edwardian tea set, so I can actually treat you to an authentic English tea experience. There’s a bakery on the corner of my street. They’re already closed but I know the owners... Liz and Liu are a nice couple so they’ll sell me a baguette or whatever they have left. I still have blueberry jam and liver pate in the fridge.”

“I was a very good soul in my past life.”

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“I actually heard you. Well, I must be a duchess in my past life.”

“Not a duke?”

“No, you were the duke. And I became a duchess because I married you.”

Kibum laughs so loud with his whole body that he ended up practically sitting on the ground. Taemin laughs along with Kibum and surprises himself with how loud his laughter can get as he hears it echoing in the street.

“Maybe we’re not fit for royalty, hyung. We laugh like drunk hooligans.” Taemin immediately wants to take back what he said because when he turns to look at Kibum, he gasps at how regal he looks as he offers Taemin his hand. Even Kibum’s hand is lovely.

“Shall we? We have to hurry because we have bakers to bother.”

Taemin is touched that Kibum wants to hold his hand for their walk home. But Taemin gets an idea—

He half kneels and brings Kibum’s hand to his lips— a kind of first kiss that befits the majestic Mr. Kim.

Taemin hopes this isn’t the last he’ll see of London. Of Kim Kibum.

He also hopes that this is the first chapter of their non-fairytale love story.

#END#

_~for mugmid~_


End file.
